Let's say the moon can't see the tonguesof lovers licking each other's neckas they lean against a fence by a silo.Let's say the moon is blind. Of course it is.It's not human, even though it affects tides.Let's say tether of light, tether of gravity.Let's say the moon isn't kind. Of course, it isn't;see line five. It enforces its own curfew,and the different hats it wears are, more or less,shadows. How much of the moon can youstomach? Victim or cruel one in songs,the moon rolls on. Let's say bald doll, where ageis no factor. Let's say ice along the road, and scorchedshingles on an abandoned farm house the moonlights up. Let's say I find the diary of a girlnamed Diane in a dresser drawer. A poemevery few pages, a moon in nearly every poem.And I'll say this: the word love stands in every corner,naked, or floats above the bed —the moon over its shoulder.